Hands
by Apollaskywalker
Summary: Short pieces with the theme of "hands", particularly holding hands, in the Skywalker family.
1. Hands: ROTS

Disclaimer: I don't own _Star Wars_, I'm not making money off of this, it's just for fun.

Hands: ROTS

The makeshift cradle held two. Obi-Wan lowered Leia back next to her brother after her diaper had been changed. After years of hard war, of loss, and of adult situations, the children calmed and soothed his war torn, broken heart. Their innocence touched him through the Force, unknowingly, potent, and wild but gentle. He reached down and ran a finger over Luke's cheek. Luke opened his eyes, the same blue of Anakin's. Obi-Wan's breath caught in his chest and his eyes burned. Leia kicked and her brother turned his head to her.

If Obi-Wan didn't know better, he'd think that the two smiled at each other. But babies this young couldn't smile – not the way they thought of a smile.

Leia's hand brushed against Luke's and reflexively grabbed hold. Luke returned the hold.

The door to the makeshift nursery opened with a hiss. "Master Kenobi," Sheltay Retrac spoke softly, "We've reached Naboo." Obi-Wan nodded. Sheltay approached the cradle and reached in to pick up Luke. Obi-Wan picked up Leia and the two walked out to bid farewell to the body of Padmé Amidala, former senator of Naboo.

Like he had when his mother died, Luke began to cry. Leia joined in and Bail took his adopted daughter from his aide. "Hush, Leia," he rubbed her back. "It's all right."

Obi-Wan shifted Luke so the boy faced his shoulder and he could feel the boy's hot cries through his worn, dirty, ruined clothes. Obi-Wan reached into the Force and sent soothing waves to both children, but they continued to fuss.

Bail handed his daughter to Sheltay and prepared himself to deliver the body of his former colleague and friend to her family. Sheltay scanned him quickly to make sure there were no telltale signs of Leia's tears. The children had to be kept safe, kept hidden, everyone onboard was sworn to secrecy, and unfortunately that meant Padmé's family couldn't know of the twins.

Sheltay stepped back with Leia and Leia reached out for Luke. The two found each other and held on. "I think they're tired," Sheltay told Obi-Wan. "My daughter gets like this when she needs to sleep."

Their distress, their confusion as they sought their mother through the Force told Obi-Wan otherwise, but he let the senator's aide take the children back to their nursery and crib.

When they reached Tatooine, Obi-Wan took Luke, gently separating the twins' interwoven hands. Luke and Leia opened their eyes and looked at each other, but then Leia fell back asleep. Luke's eyes didn't leave her as Obi-Wan carried him out of the room. He carried Luke against his shoulder so that Luke could look back. The door to the nursery shut and then Luke let his forehead touch Obi-Wan's shoulder. The baby closed his eyes and his tiny hands clenched and unclenched.


	2. Hands: ANH

Disclaimer: Still don't own any part of Star Wars.

Hands: ANH

"GET BACK TO THE SHIP!" Solo hollered as he took off after the Stormtroopers.

"He certainly has courage," Leia commented, half impressed, half exasperated. For a rescue she could have imagined ten thousand different scenarios with a million ends and she would never have pictured _this_ rescue.

"What good will it do him if he gets himself killed?" Luke asked scathingly. He took her hand, "C'mon," and they ran down the hallway together, hands clasped.

Now they were just two, alone in hostile territory, hoping to meet up with five others to escape. Hearts pounded in their chests, but Leia's heart had pounded much harder when the dianoga had sucked Luke into the murky, fetid water. The thought that he was gone, dead, left her more chilled than when she'd watched the green lasers fly into Alderaan. And when his head popped back above the water, he was coughing but free, she'd wanted to cry in relief.

Hand in hand, Leia and Luke ran.

Luke hadn't thought of the action. He had just done it, taken her hand. But as they hurried towards the _Falcon_, instead of feeling out of breath, his lungs seemed to take in air better than they had in…forever. A sense of peace filled his heart and he felt less alone. The pain he'd felt and suppressed after finding his aunt and uncle's burning remains at the only home he'd ever known seemed lightened. As if there was someone to share.

Hand in hand, the two ran home.

* * *

Luke stood in the rainforest of Yavin IV, letting the rain drench him. For the first time in his life, he experienced the rain. He stretched his arms out, palms to the sky, and tiny droplets hit his skin. Nearby a bird, tucked in its tree to keep dry, sang. He wished he knew its name, but he couldn't even guess.

The foliage crunched under someone's boots and Luke turned around to see Leia. She froze at the sight of him. "Luke?" she asked and quickly approached. She reached out and took hold of one of his hands. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," the rain slicked their skin and Luke marveled at it. The Alliance had more than just sonic showers, they had showers with water and he'd taken his first ever water shower the night before. He hadn't realized just what water did, how smooth it was…

Her other hand touched his wet forehead as she pushed his hair away. "You're going to get sick," she dropped her hand to her side, but still held his hand. "C'mon, let's go in, what were you doing out here anyway?" She began to walk towards the base and he went with her.

"Never saw the rain before," he confessed, his cheeks turned pink.

At that, Leia stopped and held her other hand out to feel the smack of raindrops against her own palm. "Really?! I can't imagine that."

"I grew up in a desert," they began walking again. Luke's confession prompted them to discuss their home planets. He described the aridness and the sand for her while she offered descriptions of snowcapped mountains. They discussed places they wanted to visit, Leia recommended places for him to visit, and they made plans to go swimming. She would have to teach him how to swim, but he promised he learned quickly.

Drenched by the rain, hands together, Luke and Leia walked into the Rebel base. Few noticed anything other than their wetness, but Han escorted Luke to the _Falcon_ after Leia went to dry off and dress. "Holding hands, huh? Kid, your crush is horribly obvious. Didn't they teach you nothin' on that hick planet of yours? You gotta play it cool."


	3. Hands: ESB

Disclaimer: Still not mine, but if George Lucas or Disney want to give Star Wars to me, I will gladly take it.

Hands: ESB

His hand was gone.

As soon as she hugged him, as soon as his arms went around her, she knew it. The cold knowledge settled in the center of her belly. The pressure of one hand pressed her to him, but the other hand was gone. Its absence screamed in her head as loud as the hiss of the carbon freeze that took Han away.

"Oh, Leia," Luke breathed. He stank of sweat and scorched flesh, of blood and tears. He smelled like a man beaten. She moved to put her arm around him, to support him, carry the weight on his shoulders for a brief moment. She only wished he could hand it to her.

Luke leaned against her, each step proved how much of his strength he'd lost with his hand. Each step brought more and more of his weight upon her. He didn't weigh a lot, but her own resources were strapped. He understood this and righted himself halfway to the med center but soon his weight returned. They barely made it to the bed in the sickbay and she gently pushed him in its direction.

Luke sat at first and closed his eyes. There were a few welts visible on his face. His sweat soaked hair stuck to his forehead and she pushed it away. The light touch of her fingers overwhelmed him and he slid down on the bed, giving way to his exhaustion. "Vader," he whispered. "Vader – not true…_Leia_!" She covered him with a blanket, recognizing he was in shock.

Leia placed the tourniquet over the end of his wrist, where his hand should have been. The ship rocked and she put bacta on a swab to take care of the welts.

Half aware of his surroundings, Luke watched Leia's hand approach his face. He could see the lines of her palm, her short, clean fingernails and watched it morph into his own disembodied hand, reaching for him.

_Come with me_.

His hand became Vader's gloved hand and it touched his face.

But the touch didn't hurt, instead it soothed, and he thought he heard someone say, "Luke…oh, Luke…"

He tried to say something, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his lips moved uncertainly – he didn't even know what word he wanted to say.

Then he felt something touch his face and knew he heard, "I'll be back."

He wanted to reach out for whoever was there – Leia? Aunt Beru? Someone…someone unknown? – but he couldn't move his hand, couldn't find it.

"Luke." At his name, he surfaced and things became clear. No one was there. Leia must have helped him to the bed, he reasoned, she had covered him with the blanket and applied the tourniquet. Luke pushed the blanket off and walked out to find Leia. If he had to face that gloved hand that took his own, he at least wanted to give Leia's hand as strong of a reassuring squeeze as he could muster.

* * *

Leia watched as the Falcon with Lando and Chewie disappeared into hyperspace. She felt Luke's approach and heard 21B return his tools to their proper locations. She looked at Luke, healed physically but the pain in his eyes told her he still had a long way to go. He looked into her eyes and said nothing. He gave her no platitudes for her sorrow. They had both experienced great loss when they'd first met, they knew there were no words that could assuage the pain. Neither of them even wanted words, they wanted something more.

Luke put his arm around her, his new mechanical hand gently holding her shoulder. She had let him use her as support, now he offered it to her. Leia didn't resist the gentle pull and she leaned against his side.

They had each other. They were home.


	4. Hands: ROTJ Twins

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars, you would all know it because there would be a press release. Sadly, it's not mine.

Hands: ROTJ Twins

The Death Star hung in the sky like any other star, but instead of freely burning gasses illuminating it, the twinkling light of the deceptive star came from artificial suns staged across the ceilings of each floor. Luke stared up at it. On Tatooine there were no trees to block the suns and stars. On Hoth it had been too cold to stay outside of shelter for night, he hadn't seen its night sky. The thick canopy of trees had prevented him from seeing the night sky on Yavin IV. Here, though, on this moon of Endor, the tree leaves merely added to the sky. Branches wove in and around the darkness.

"Luke, what's wrong?" Leia asked. Her steps brought him no comfort. He only had bad news for her. The wind blew gently and a tiny gust brushed his forehead like a hand to brush at his hair. Again he heard a voice, _"Luke…oh, Luke."_ Luke looked inward, tried to find the source and heard the sharp cries of babies.

"Leia," he turned around, curious. He sat on the wooden railing the Ewoks had constructed on their bridge. "Do you remember your mother? Your real mother?"

Leia smiled and sat down in front of him. She placed her hand on his. "Just a little bit, she died when I was very young."

The need to know burned in his chest. So much of his family knowledge proved to be false and if he were to walk to his death because of his faith in his father, he deserved – he needed to know some truth. Leia would not lie to him. She never had. "What do you remember?"

"Just images really, feelings," Leia sounded unsure – but whether that was of her memory or of how to answer, he couldn't decipher.

"Tell me," Luke pressed.

Leia sighed and looked down and away. "…She was…very beautiful," her tone implied that this was an understatement. Luke tried to summon an image of his mother, but could not. He couldn't see her. "Kind, but sad." Leia looked at him. "Why are you asking me this?"

Luke stared into nothing, continuing to hunt with the Force for his mother's memory. "I have no memory of my mother," he realized. "I never knew her."

"Luke, tell me. What's troubling you?" The Force fueled search ended abruptly. He had to tell her. And so he did, first she held his hand, then as he told her of his plan, he took both her hands in his.

Those few years ago when he'd taken her hand on the Death Star, their first meeting – only not – he had felt something he couldn't identify. But now he could. In the turbulent times of his life, Luke and Leia had always clung to each other. Their hands ready to catch the other. And now they knew what they had always known deep down.

They had comforted each other in their crib by holding hands. He'd taken her hand on the Death Star, countless times on bases, their hands had guided each other back where they needed to be.

And now they had to separate. He to find his father, Leia to continue the fight. But at least the fight would be in Leia's hands, he could think of none other more capable than she.

It was Leia who did not want to let go. They held hands until his step away separated their contact.

The memory of her mother – her mother's face, the cries she'd heard, and her brother…

Her womb-mate, her rock, her friend, her hope – her emotions for her brother burned a hole in her chest like when the Death Star had destroyed Alderaan.

She had lost him before, she did not want to lose him again, but it seemed she was.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Leia kept her voice as calm as she could, to hide the storm. "I just want to be alone for a little while."

"Nothing?" Han moved to where just moments before Luke had been. He sat down, just like Luke and Leia had. He pressed her to tell him.

"I – I can't tell you," she wanted to tell him, but the words caught in her throat, burned, and she nearly choked.

"Could you tell Luke, is that who you could tell?!" Han demanded, frustrated.

Leia turned away to hide, "I –" she stopped, the words trapped in her chest: brother, father, mother, twins…

She heard Han's steps and tried to keep herself together. She didn't want to cry until she was truly alone. Han stopped walking. He turned around and came closer, but not too close. He didn't take her hand, he hadn't been like Luke. His touches had been more provocative like pulling her closer to kiss or more romantic. Luke had touched to offer comfort, safety, and just to let her know he was there if she needed him. She needed that now. She needed someone to hold her hand, but instead she asked a more appropriate request of Han. "Hold me." And he did.


	5. Hands: ROTJ Anakin and Luke

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own.

Hands: ROTJ - Anakin and Luke

The cumbersome suit and mask that had shielded him from the galaxy for so long felt unbearable. Its sound receptors perfectly captured his son's tortured cries and Luke's request for help. Twenty-four years ago he'd heard similar cries. Twenty-four years ago he'd done whatever seemed to offer the most hope, even if it meant destruction and darkness, a decision that eventually killed everything he'd loved and doomed him to a life of loneliness.

Palpatine had guided him to those decisions.

She had asked him to be himself, to be Anakin.

Now his son asked the same thing, his words echoing hers: _Father, help me! Please! Anakin, help me!_

He looked between his master and his son.

Between the man who had deceived not only him but the whole galaxy, the man who'd orchestrated catastrophe after catastrophe, who sat there feeding fear and quiet desperation disguised as hope into Anakin's heart and his son, his son who looked so much like he had but echoed his mother.

_Come away with me, help me raise our child, leave everything else behind while we still can_.

_Father, help me! Please!_

And there was no contest.

Anakin's hands seized hold of the Emperor and lifted him up, moved the bolts away from his son, and hurled the deceiver down the unfinished shaft that led to the center of the station. The electricity sizzled the suit and shorted out its systems. He fell to his knees. The suit began to fail as Darth Vader began to die and Anakin Skywalker began to live once again, even for a short while.

Anakin felt pressure on the suit around his shoulders and his son eased him away from the shaft and back towards safety. The boy glowed with the Force, with goodness, with love. He supported Anakin as Anakin wheezed and struggled to regain his strength.

Luke gazed into his eyes and Anakin hated the eyepieces that obscured his view. He wanted Luke to see his eyes, to see what he felt. Luke's hand moved to Anakin's and his flesh fingers twined with Anakin's mechanical gloved ones.

And for the first time in twenty-four long, lonely years, Anakin Skywalker held someone's hand: his son's.


End file.
